The Chicago Incident

Young husband postures for a promotion and opportunity offers in situations such as this do happen quite often in the world of business.

A few years back my late husband's employer reserved several booths for their annual tradeshow at a huge Convention Center in Chicago Illinois. Even though he had only been with that firm for a few months his performance was impressive enough to make him one of the few managers selected to attend and as an added bonus each were encouraged to bring their wives.

I was intrigued over the offer when he told me about it, it would be the first time for me to experience Chicago and a big change from sitting at home during all the long business trips he was required to take with his former employers, and though I understood for him it had to be all business, for me the thought of getting out of the house for a few days seemed like a mini vacation.

Well as you can imagine, being couriered to the airport in a limo, meeting the wives of the other managers, the flight to Chicago and checking in at a four star hotel all on company expenses was super exciting, but the show’s schedule proved to be long and arduous on the men who started early and stayed late while we wives just mostly hung out and enjoyed the perks during our time away from any monotonous duties we’d left at home.

On the first two mornings I decided to sleep in and take advantage of late room service breakfasts before off to meet the other girls who turned out to be a bunch of very happy trade show veterans. We’d all meet for a late coffee each day before hitting a few shops in the area or maybe take in an early show before getting together to sit and talk and laugh and gossip over a glass of wine about everything from how ruggedly handsome and available the single big boss was, or how hot a few of the young roadies looked while maintaining the workings of the various displays and then jokingly complaining how our men returned to our hotel rooms each night far too tired to pester into indulging us and on and on like a bunch of high school cheerleaders with crushes … and then it was off to join our husbands to share their lavish late luncheons the company graciously provided.

All in all it was a lot of fun, until that final day that turned out to be a hectic busy nightmare. It proved to be long and fast paced with most of us wives up early helping in the booths by replenishing the tables with various free token giveaways, handing out literature and basically standing around all day looking pretty while our men took orders, fielded detailed technical product questions and noted prospective future buyer interests.

At the close of that day my husband and I stayed after to assist one other couple disassemble their display and ready it for crating to ship home and (needless to say) after fifteen plus hours on our feet we were both dead tired.

Since the event turned out to be a huge success, to show his appreciation the corporate owner sponsored a late dinner with open bar at a fancy restaurant in the same hotel across the street where his company had booked all of our rooms, but by then my husband and I were both so exhausted we considered not attending.

When we walked past the entrance we heard some happy commotion and even though we were both too worn to partake in a full sit down meal, a rather large distinguished looking gentleman (who turned out to be his boss) introduced himself to me and insisted we at least stay to eat something light or maybe just relax with a drink and appetizers to unwind before turning in.

I still remember how he was nothing like I had expected from listening to the gossip sessions from the other ladies. He seemed younger than I had pictured him, around fifty or so, a rather tall uncommonly large, good looking man, powerfully built with a mature persuasive charm and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Well, after such a gracious invitation (and our deliberation over the fact we hadn’t eaten much of anything that day) I looked at my husband for approval.

“I could eat something” he remarked: “But only if you’re sure, after today you must feel dead on your feet” he reminded, but I knew it was him who had been overtaxed from the event pressures the last four days, but since it was the owner who actually asked us, I could tell he wanted to stay for the to make a good impression.

“Only if you want it’s your decision, but after all this is our final day in Chicago; I encouraged: “why not take a few more minutes to enjoy it? I know we’re both tired and your feet must be killing you too, but considering the elevator to our floor opens only a few feet from our room and we don’t have to stay long, maybe appetizers and quick cocktail would be in order, don’t you think?” I suggested. It had been a fun trip for me and I guess wasn’t ready for it to end.

We both did enjoy relaxing a while over the various finger foods and a cocktail prior to his boss brining us each a nightcap and surprisingly we were comfortable enough to engage in some casual conversation with two other couples that happened to stay after hours; that is until I realized it was well past midnight.

To be honest I’m not much of a drinker and I don't remember anything about that elevator ride back to our floor or even entering our room for that matter. What little I do recall is kicking off my shoes, pulling my dress off over my head and crawling in between the sheets in my underwear at the center of the mattress while apologetically mumbling something about taking my shower the following morning. I somehow knew I was taking up most of that bed, but at the time it all made perfect sense to me, so I guess I didn’t care.

Shortly after that the effects from that day’s physical and mental demands caught up with my poor judgment to consume alcohol on a partially empty stomach and as a result I must have passed out.

Chapter Two
I woke after what seemed only seconds in a semi conscious fog while hoping the dizziness in my head wouldn’t lead to nausea … and suddenly it felt as though I was floating for a few moments until realized I was lying on my back sideways across what felt to be the edge of the mattress near the foot of the bed.

I remember the feeling of freezing cold from being uncovered … and then the room started spinning.

Now that would’ve normally been enough to have had me running for the bathroom, but surprisingly after a moment of trying to settle in, make it go away and orient myself in those newer surroundings; everything seemed to run together into something so surreal and dreamlike that I was unsure if I was even awake.

I must have laid there for a few minutes attempting to focus not throwing up before my mind allowed me to realize that a soft continuous sensual touch was what was petting me from that sleep or was I dreaming? In that state of arousal I knew it was actually happening, but it had to have been happening for some time; was I dreaming? Or awake and as my stomach seemed to settle down I became confused.

As the immediate surroundings became magical pleasantries I found myself struggling with the question: “am I dreaming or truly awake?” Until the familiar protective presence of my husband standing over me made everything much more real than any dream.

It was out of character for him to randomly wake me from a much needed sound sleep like that and I was a little miffed when he persisted. When I mustered enough of an attitude to expel my reluctance through a dismissive sigh, he still continued and I remember becoming a little annoyed.

But as his undeterred determination continued to light up every erotic motor response in my brain, my mood slowly changed and my mind realized my heart was already pounding deep in my breast and when I couldn’t turn any of it off; my breathing instantly became short, quick and shallow and there was no going back.

Men often seem to have the worse timing when it comes to initiating sex and that time was one of them. He was being oddly persistent while I was being robbed of sleep and as disappointed thoughts protested in my mind: “of all nights why tonight, why now?” My body demanded my emotion cloak the two of us in a mutual surrender of forbidding warmth … and as all of that became so sexually perfect, even under those extreme circumstances, my sensual intrigue committed every fiber of my being to submit to his will.

You must understand; from my husband’s recent brief times in between jobs and the added stress from that recent career change with all the endless hours he spent studying the product line, training and preparing to make his best impression, (all) had taken a toll on our sex life … and to be honest, for me it had been a while. So if I had to guess, I would say it was desire that allowed me to slip into that moment.

As my arousal grew my consciousness became partially restored and my first reaction was to concede by looking into his eyes, but I couldn’t open mine!

During his next soft passionate stroke from my tummy down to and over my mound, the continuous glow through smooth fabric made me realize the white silk sleeping mask I had selected for that trip was fueling my desires, the very one that I had so carefully packed but (in my haste that night) neglected to wear.

When my natural reaction was to push it away I was unable to raise my arms … and then the sensation from two short lengths of something smooth and cool like a couple of silk scarves binding my ankles to my wrists, immediately changed that mood.

Under any other circumstance I would have so distraught that I would have adamantly refused whatever he was attempting. But oddly enough, in that dreamlike state the sensation of being restrained added an erotic twist that overcame my concern … and then from deep curiosity over what he was planning, I decided to lay there and see how far he was willing to go.

I didn’t know how long he’d been petting me to get me there, but I was HOT there’s no denying that and I guess by then nothing else mattered. I knew that man loved me and I was safe with him, and I knew he could be trusted … but above everything else, I knew he would never risk having future sex with me by using restraints to attempt anything I wouldn’t normally allow.

As mild curiosity and intrigue replaced any hint of what at first were confused troubled concerns, my emotions boar an open willingness for roll-play … and since he had never attempted anything so lascivious like that before, everything literally bolstered a growing curiosity to experience whatever he had in mind.

I remember taking in a deep breath and relaxing my arms as that constant sensual touch drove my emotion and just as I was about to uncontrollably whimper my willingness to surrender; I sensed the warmth from his midsection approach the right side of my torso.

Oh my God, how the alluring aroma of his faint aftershave blending with the warm familiar arousing scent of his all male organ added an erotic flare to the cool feel of those soft scarves holding me helpless at his pleasure … and literally everything about that took my words away.

As he slowly entered my personal space, I prepared myself for his long deep lingering kiss … and as the scent of his breath and the heat from his moist lips covered my open mouth, he passionately drew my tongue into his.

Within what seemed only seconds he broke our kiss, stopped to stand and only after he sensed the true conviction in my surrender did a light caressing assurance from his trembling palm softly grace the left side of my face … and total-sensual-arousal became the operative words when I heard him slowly draw in a deep breath before ever so gently turning my head to face where he stood.

Softly, patiently, in a low compelling almost inaudible all male Angelic voice, came his nervous and overanxious breathy whisper: "Oh that’s it Anne … that’s right … just relax” and then I actually felt more than heard through mutual over anxious arousal: “Oh you’ve been so understanding through all of our financial struggles from me being out of work” and he drew a deep-deep breath: “I want you to know nothing will stop me from excelling at this job … our worries and troubles are behind us now … this is your night” and then another deep breath: “It’s all about you … take it … cherish it … own it … and above all … enjoy it.”

I had never before known him to be that turned on.

Within an instant the familiar smooth, satiny warmth from tip of his throbbing erection parted my lips … and I instinctively took him into my mouth.

Chapter Three
From the day we were married we had always maintained a healthy sex life together and over the years I had come to know and respect what my husband expected from me and always attempting to be ‘the good wife,’ I did my very best to honor most of those needs.

Even though everything up to that point, on that particular early morning seemed way out of character for the man I married, there was just something so compelling in his attempt at persuasion that enticed me to allow him to continue.

As the tenderness in his trembling hands seemed to make that whole new endeavor curiously inviting, it slowly created my willing desire to search for even more. I mean let’s face it, there we were in a luxurious hotel suit for the final night of an exciting all expense paid trip, care free, in lush surroundings we couldn’t have afforded on our own and better than what we had at home, I guess that alone seemed to spark an excitement that actually added to that moment … and the very mystery of his true intent literally transformed me into that sexual being who seldom took exclusive interest in her own desires.

As his slow tender use my mouth continued, his caring hands found the base of my breasts and I realized for the first time that he had removed my bra … and as the gentle compression started to knead them both into sensual awareness, my breath caught and I felt them plump to their full richness in the palms of his hands.

When his fingertips sensed it was time to add his familiar tweak to each hardening nipple, both thumbs engaged my areolas in such a way that with a gentle squeeze they slowly folded down onto themselves by half … and at that, I was well on my way.

His experienced hands continued their slow travel down to tease between and under the base of my sensitive globes as the birth of that first orgasm in many weeks finally invited itself to join … and Oh Dear God how that man knew me; he could read my thoughts, feel my conviction and sense my desires … and as my mind worked, fought and pleaded to will that orgasm into one intensive explosive conclusion, his fingers continually coaxed my flesh to intentionally cause that magic to linger well beyond its arrival.

I’d been blessed with sensitive breasts my entire adult life and I’ve always felt bad for women who haven’t. I mean considering them faced with an entire adulthood of just carrying these things around without knowing the true pleasures of achieving an orgasm through nipple stimulation (like mine have provided me over the years) not only makes me thankful for being so blessed, but I actually feel true sorrow for those who haven’t.

I’m telling you that sensual total body reaction escalating from unmistakable titillating sensations down through my nipples into my underbelly, in one unbelievable purge that created the first remarkable erotic climax starting in the center of my core before traveling downward so fast, that I found myself sliding deeper into his new fantasy … while mentally grasping for my own.

As he continued to gently compress, tweak and tease me into my selfish private world, that first orgasm subsided … and it left me wanting more through lingering thoughts of him as someone else!

While those strong new memories remained in that portion in my mind, his talented manipulation on my burning nipples lit up an emotional eroticism that I couldn’t resist … and the variety of imaginary lovers in that moment seemed endless.

Please understand, after we’d been married a short while I often felt guilt over occasionally imagining him as a different partner during sex. But over the years I took peace in the fact that not only had that become an innocent tool to ward off monotony, it provided a secret variety I had come to selfishly cherish that was not only perfectly harmless, but one that added to my willingness to commit to the frequency he desired … and that particular occasion seemed the perfect time to immerse myself guilt free and deep within it, while allowing him to enjoy his own.”

When the wet warmth of his open mouth engulfed my right areola, the sparkling intensity of a second conclusion was all over me: “Oh yes, yes …YES” down through the pit of my chest into my lower tummy, down over and into the center of my womanhood it blissfully traveled, before blowing out through the inner folds of my labia as I mentally thanked God for the evils in that collective fantasy from his own unawareness … and then: “OH SWEET LORD” I uncontrollably announced in an unintelligible moan as I came again: “OH YES SWEET JESUS … Oh my DEAR LORD GOD YES!” and I drew my lower tummy in hard, squeezed my inner thighs even tighter while my vaginal floor literally squeegee, twisted and rang every single twinkling rush out of that explosive climax … and I rode the sensational aftershock he so willingly, yet unknowingly gifted me, I mean all the way to their very end.

In the short time since it all began my already exhausted body was trembling and ringing wet with sweat … and in the very midst of that last erotic wave, a deep rooted eminent release manifested in the core of my lower tummy, so violent, that it literally burst into the brightest imaginary white/hot flash dampening the sheets beneath us.

As all of that intense sensual stimulation bathed over my body, my mind finally realized the constant vibrations in my throat stemmed from my continuous grateful muffled responses over the warmth from the motion of my husband’s erection … and when he noticed me struggling to speak, he slowly pulled out of my mouth.

Oh he wasn’t interested in simply allowing me to breath, not him, he wanted me to speak, he needed me to speak, to speak those words he’d come to expect; spoken words, my words, words of praise … and Oh My God when that sudden rush of added oxygen intensified our fantasy play into a sensual reality … the feel from what had to be his thumb slowly pushed back the fleshy folds that protected my engorged clitoris … and that innocent blindfold and a couple of simple knots became his key to my success.

If I could describe it I would have to say that my overriding emotion was an insatiable desire for dirty sex clouded by confusion from being bound and a wanton desire induced from too much alcohol … but by then there was no controlling my submissive willingness. For from that last sensual impact I was too far into it, too far into him … and as my: “OH HOLEY FUUUUUUCK! Openly announced that every aspect of my erogenous zone was joining in on an explosive awareness that totally claimed my sexual soul … I entered my personal battle between the shock driven deep betrayal of being unwillingly bound ... and the flattery that comes in the surrender of total sexual gratitude!

As the defined sensations from my husband’s ten finger tips continue to compliment my breasts, an ever increasing warmth from an unknown glorious glow slowly traveled up from my womanhood and suddenly: “BOOM!” a shock wave from another unexpected orgasmic conclusion rocked my frame as I heard in my own words: “OH DEAR GOD, YES!” It was a confession I had never openly verbalized out loud in all of our years of marriage.

I could almost taste my own sweat and while panting like an anxious bitch in heat, my nostrils filled with the strong feminine scent of my own musk … and I remembered being too drunk to shower but I didn’t care. I was too far into him and I wanted him to experience everything all raw and direct from the source like we were a couple of animals; until the mattress suddenly depressed under my feet!

When a sudden warmth from strange palms slipped in between my clenched knees, a totally unexpected feel of two large hands pushed my thighs wide apart and I prayed to the God I had just praised: “Father! Please make this all part of a bad dream.”

But as the unmistakable reality from the sensation of a large naked torso consuming every cubic inch of the space in between my calves, unfamiliar fingertips firmly pressed down and in on the natural crease between my lower tummy and mound … and within the time it took for that last electrifying climactic rush to ebb, two thick fingers entered me vaginally and the total impact from that realization consumed my mind as my frightened: “OH DEAR LORD THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” echoed throughout the room!

And my husband quickly re-entered my mouth.

In that exact moment I knew that the lower pressure on my pubis was intended to enhance the sensitivity from internal fingertips that were firmly all over my internal erogenous zone, and I knew they were not those of my husband … and I literally panicked.

My mind fought to find anger, my emotions demanded I burst into hysterical tears, but all of that seemed to too quickly spiral from my thoughts as total acceptance fought its way in via an unexpected delivery of yet another orgasm.

What was happening was happening whether I liked it or not and it was happening to me far too fast, like a rollercoaster plunging down the first steep drop, it added thrill over terror and terror to that thrill… and then, out of nowhere, the most erotic climatic crescendo I had ever experienced took ownership of my extreme lower belly … as I simultaneously experienced myself uncontrollably grinding and thrusting my pelvis against the mysteries of an unwanted and unexpected digital invasion.

“OH MY DEAR GOD,” for the very first time I came face to face with the stark reality that we were not alone in that room … and it was exciting!

Sensations from a multitude of orgasms danced around in my head just out of reach, intentionally maintaining an alluring posture that refused to commit; teasing my mind, taunting my body, demanding I coax and encourage them to exist … and I was fighting to defy everything I was being subject to while submissively reaching for each and every one of those mind numbing thrills.

I didn’t just want them, I needed them, I needed every one of them, not to satisfy a rouge desire for more sexual pleasure oh no, they were required, required and deathly needed to form a barrier that would cloak my nudity, mask the embarrassment and shield the humiliation I was suffering from reluctantly enjoying salacious pleasuring at the hands of whomever my husband had recruited to take advantage of my tethered state.

While laying there all sprawled in a full grotesque display, instantly the debilitating shock over my husband’s disloyal betrayal devastated me and immediately the true reason for him being so far out of character instantly became crystal clear … and it hurt me.

That was no longer innocent roll play between two consenting adults, it wasn’t part of any of my own secret fantasies; it was grim reality, the one singular one that not only had we never before discussed, but the one thing I would have never agreed on, an ambush intended for the sole purpose of the evils from ill gotten gain … and I felt like a whore..

As much overdue anger finally joined with the embarrassment of remorse, everything within that room escalated into instant anxiety and the arousal from me being blindfolded and bound became so overwhelming that I found myself focusing on only my own needs … and as my thoughts turned to more consideration for a full blown menage-a-trois over blame, everything literally spawned a surreal deep taboo that totally, without warning, caused me to embrace my darkest desires!

“I’m going to punish him!” wicked thoughts of pure revenge spun that scenario as everything became a first for me; the first time I knew of my husband having any interest in any form erotic bondage let alone harboring any hidden desires for sharing me. The first time I’d been bound for submission, the first even slightest consideration of mine to indulge in the exotic act of a threesome, (as a myriad of so many other thoughts crowded my mind only to hide where they will never be remembered) … and for the very first time I found myself willfully participating in a sexual encounter between my husband and another man I somehow thought I should know.

I started finding it awkward and difficult to focus on the full enjoyment of what both of them were doing to me at the same time, but somehow that made it even better and as I noticed an undefined tenderness in the strange man’s touch, I experienced my body fall like slaughtered prey from focusing on only him and his twisted desires.

By then my husband’s palms were on either side of my face and I experienced lightheadedness from them directing the back of my head down against the side edge of the mattress as the grip form from a stranger’s two strong hands pushed my feet further apart … and I couldn’t resist either.

Against the inner surface of the backdrop covering my eyes, my mind began to magically paint a soft encouraging picture of anticipation: “It’s has to be the owner!” I framed in my mind as my husband’s anxious hands resumed control over my breasts at the exact moment his erect penis reentered my mouth.

What followed were glorious sensations from a strange pair of warm wet lips boldly violating my moist feminine area and when what felt to be the tip of his nose parting my moist inner lips, came the feel of stubble on my outer labia before his tongue lapped up and in between to separate my inner folds … and then it was inside of me, deep inside of me, tasting me, enjoying me as his thumbs softly entered in between the cheeks of my ass to slowly separate my butt.

As my knees instinctively parted to openly offer optimum access to any and everything he desired, I felt a fingertip ever so lightly rim my anus and the instant my clitoris was under his upper lip … that sensation from a rough five o clock stubble contacted the surrounding flesh prompting my reaction that permitted my husband the opening to willingly travel balls deep down my throat.

And I experienced my wrist bound feet freely draw back as my ass intentionally rolled up off the mattress so my open calves could willingly present my pelvis for the shameless use of everything my femininity had to offer the face of an important executive; as I raised my chin to press the back of my head further into the side of that hotel mattress allowing every centimeter of my husband’s desires to spasm down my throat.

That seemed to go on and on until the cool air in our room became warmed in an unmistakable aroma of full blown sex and as I was about reengage the primal pleasures of going multiple, I was already fully lost in the moment, locked in a passion so pure, that in my mind I knew few women (if any) had never known … and as the next oncoming orgasm swelled into the most overly-sensitive multiple squall imaginable … I almost passed out.

When the aggressive attention of two large hands firmly compressing my breasts, I knew it wasn’t my husband … and then I could tell the big man between my legs was up on his knees. Oh I could feel from the slightest touch of his forearms against my sides that he was positioning himself to take me … and I didn’t know if I could actually go through with what was about to happen.

As the back of a huge right hand brushed the inside of my left inner thigh, I knew he was readying his manhood to enter … and all too soon a bulbous gland slowly parted my inner most flesh and I experienced both sides of his hips come up under the sides of my calves … and my husband slipped out of my mouth.

I remember taking in a deep, deep breath through my nose so my mouth could form the word: “wait,” as he ever so slowly hunched forward … and the results were amazing.

Chapter Four
I had never felt so full before, overly full, and almost painfully full with a burning stretching discomfort so sexually intense and so arousing that I prayed it would never end.

Instantly my husband’s actions seemed to quicken as I sensed he’d either become over anxious from what he was witnessing or in fear I could somehow find a way to back out and ruin whatever agreement he had made; until I heard his voice directly above my chin breath out eight distinct words in a succession of warm huffs: “OH THAT’S IT ANNE ... TAKE IT … TAKE IT!”

My head was already spinning from earlier shock, anger, humility from being betrayed, the humiliation of committing to betrayal and the resulting passionate lust I felt throughout most of that whole ordeal; but as it finally happened there was no tearing of flesh do to the sheer size of what I was experiencing, no gnashing of teeth, no cruel hard thrusts, no (real) discomfort or stinging pain … it was just extreme pressure from an amazing over fullness that embarrassingly queefed out the vaginal pressures it compressed during each and every slow tender entry.

And there I was, lying on my back totally naked and exposed in a Luxury Hotel Suit, bound, blindfolded and prepossession in a grotesque display for their sexual gratitude at the end of a lavish king sized bed. Literally being fucked at both ends when I remembered over coffee in a Starbucks not more than two blocks away; words, the words, those words, words of gossip from the “Trade Show Veteran Queens” as they sat and blushed and giggled, and drooled over the Corporate Owner ... and in that moment I felt not only had my suspicions been confirmed, I knew first hand exactly who he was … and how what each had experienced was so rewarding that they had to share them with me.

He started in a slow considerate motion of long strokes, long bottoming strokes that soon turned into loud sounds from the front of his hard thighs slapping the back of mine as he drove me into the sheets, while my husband held my shoulders down to maintain his constant use my throat … and that combination was amazing.

Masters and Johnson were both spot on when they recorded their research findings on how human females can achieve an infinite number or orgasms in one session “IF” with multiple partners, and to be honest, if my two hadn’t changed places several times … I’m sure I would have tapped out.

The last few things I remember are the faint scent of my husband’s neck sweat and aftershave as the more stealth slender feel from his rock hard member reclaimed the sensitive inner flesh between my legs … and then the muffling sensation as two large palms covering my ears while strange thumbs slowly positioned my jaw in such a way my throat would align with my lips that were stretched over a massive tool that smelled and tasted too much like me.

It was a slow easy tender action from thick satiny smooth flesh filling my mouth to a point where I felt my own saliva bubbling at the corners of my over stretched lips. It wasn’t as scary hard as my husband’s often gets, but it was definitely firm yet pliable, pliable enough to contact everything and uncommonly large with a girth greater than anything I had ever imagined in all of my fantasies.

After my tightened lips found the recess behind that giant head I could swear my mouth experienced every bulging vein and fleshy wrinkle as it traveled past my tongue before causing me to gag … and I loved it.

I was compelled to reach over my head to caress the backs of his thighs, cradle the weight of balls, pull him further into me, I wanted to take him down my throat, taste his seed, and nuzzle his pubes; as the constant steady pace of my husband drove me even deeper into that sexual frenzied crazy!

But: “Those Binding! Those Mother Fucking Bindings” that were pulling at my shoulders, burning my ankles, straining my knees and preventing my reach … just wouldn’t yield!

When that bulbous head managed to pop past my uvula, within three distinct spasms my throat filled with a warm, silky, sinewy, flavorless ejaculate … and I heard my husband’s familiar grunt announce his deposit less than twenty two inches away.

Chapter Last:
I woke with a start late the following afternoon shivering cold and rubbing both wrists while lying there like normal, but that time next to a sleeping bastard that used and deceived me in that very bed. I was experiencing deep shame, more shame than I ever thought possible on a personal loathing I never thought possible. Oh, not from what they’d done to me, it came from the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of it … and in such a way that my husband couldn’t help but witness every second while I did ... and I couldn't stand the thought of that.

I know how it has been said that everything always looks brighter in the morning? Well, fuck that, by then it was almost evening and I was filled with the remorse and shame that comes from being sucked into a deal that’s destined for failure, the kind of deal made from partnering with a fool and that's what’s known as buyer’s remorse … and I had that plenty, and on many levels.

I was actually lying there considering ending our marriage when I realized my hands were totally free and then out of reaction they located my blind fold down around my neck. I became so enraged with seething hatred that I had to confirm my suspicions of who his mystery participant had been. Damn I was both curious and furious, furious to a point that I was well beyond needing to know, I was prepared to demand to know … and at any cost!

After carefully and quietly easing up in order to sit without waking the man I thought I knew, my eyes were slow to focus but already scouring the room for proof that a third person even existed … but there were none and disturbingly, no form of anything that could have been used to bind me for their collective perverse use of my helplessness.

As I started to stand my back and shoulders were sore, my knees went weak and the worst hangover headache imaginable crashed into the back of my skull as my mouth and throat went dry … and that extreme pain and discomfort actually soured my stomach.

After I started to vividly recall every sorted detail that my mind would allow, their stale male taste was in my mouth and with each breath those heavy scents that lingered on my upper lip traveled deep within my nostrils … and I instantly became nauseous and then Furious with a deep rooted anger, not of him, oh no, it was a burning anger loathing myself for enjoying what resulted from my husband’s deceit.

Within the struggle of only a few steps toward the bathroom I was fighting dry heaves when I suddenly realizing in some detail most of what I had been through … and about to puke or not, I turned and wrestled that Bastard awake.

Without so much as permitting him one damn word I confronted him with each and every one of the deplorable things that they did to me that I could remember, while he just sat at the edge of the bed staring at the floor … and when he finally looked up, there was a telling look of guilt on his face.

Oh he attempted to appear totally dumfounded as if he didn’t expect me to recall any of it; before trying his best to look hurt during a: “Wha-wad-da-ya-mean?” feeble attempt at denial while I just stood there glaring at him.

After a brief pause from obviously choosing the least infuriating words he could find, he attempted to make me believe that I was so drunk after dinner that he had to carry me from the elevator into our room where he claimed: “Anne you stripped yourself naked tossing clothes everywhere before passing out across the foot of the bed. I had no part in that! Why you kept kicking the covers off all night complaining you were too hot or too cold while I stayed awake to monitor your breathing out of fear you would choke on your own vomit!”

I knew he was lying, playing the victim and that dumb look on his face was the “tell,” the tell proving he didn’t even believe his own words … and I scoffed and cursed at him!

At that he took pause and he actually looked like he might confess, when instead he sheepishly decided to add in a little whiney wimpy sing song to support his farce: “Honey I was so worried about you, worried that you might suffocate or something … I mean … you know … due to that drunken stupor you were in?” But there was no way I was buying any of that.

No longer in the mood to further expose myself to any of his act, I gathered enough strength and composure to turn my back on him. As I picked up my cloths and headed for the bathroom I noticed the panties I had worn all of the previous day and through most of that night were missing! And I cut him a look with a knowing nod that should have killed him … and from his reaction, I knew, that he knew, that I knew everything.

Totally disgusted, feeling betrayed and frantically considering any possibility of legal retribution and alternative transportation home, I stumbled into the bathroom for my shower … where I broke into tears.

When I finally composed myself enough to glance in the mirror I noticed what looked to be the start of a bruise just above my mons pubis and when I stepped back for a better view; I discovered that both my bottom and crotch felt numb and tingly from that repeated invasion. As I stared in that mirror at my face, my lips looked chafed and there in that same reflection were my breasts and nipples looking irritated with a few distinct rub marks … and then I noticed what appeared to be dried sperm and drool crusted on one eyebrow, in my hair and all down the left side of my face as I thought: “mirrors (unlike my husband) never lie.”

I wanted to feel emotionally crushed and I felt somehow that I needed to be physically injured in some sort of way, if for nothing else but to make him pay, make him feel horrible, have something to Lord over him for the rest of his life … when suddenly with absolutely no intensions of buying into any of his feeble explanation of defense, I rushed through my shower in an attempt to cleanse myself of any proof that any of it had ever happened.

With scoured and scrubbed pink new flesh I felt somewhat born again as I hurriedly dressed and when I found enough courage to march back out into that room to confront him one final time before retaining my own separate divorce Attorney, the only question that I could bring myself to ask cane out as: "When is the next tradeshow?”

THE CHICAGO INCIDENT – a true story by Peterswiftt